"Calm down." He said gently. She was still unsure, and looked at the floor, appreciating the bear fur rug, until a finger tilted up her chin. Her eyes finally met his. He looked at her with an expression she could not read, but his words were soft. Surely, he didn't mean anything by it, other than calming her, she thought. She watched his other hand slowly come to her face.
Lord Thetas was close enough to stroke her soft curls that reached the lower middle of her back. She shivered from his touch, but dared not move. She was his, and no one would bat an eyelash her way should she anger him. That was the way of this world. Ruled by ruthless lords, in levels of hierarchy, with her at the bottom. For not only was she a woman, but she was also a slave.
He didn't care. Initially, he just wasn't sure if she was truly who he wanted. At first, he didn't want to have her get too much jealous attention in case she wasn't. There was also the fact that he kept talking himself out of being with her. Now that he had smelled her sweet aroma in his room, touched her soft hair, held her delicate curves, and heard her gentle voice, he knew she was his.
Her demeanor was also what he wanted. She was shy and submissive, which the master liked. No proud high born, spoiled woman could be that for him. Their beauty was as big of a façade as his, and he didn't want that. Though, it was only their faces they hid from the world with only a thin layer of makeup. For him, it was a bit more; for he, in fact, was a monster.
She kept finishing small fruits and meats as he handed them to her, until she seemed to eat even slower. She would not tell him she was full, because she didn't speak to him. She knew better than to spoil his mood with her chatter. She just hoped that he would understand that he had fed her until she couldn't eat anymore. It wasn't much, as she had been fed much less than a normal girl because of her status. She had been a slave for 7 months now. Before that, she was a peasant. Her entire life taught her these things. Hunger was often a common bedfellow.
The Lord of Death didn't speak much himself, but it bothered him to part with her by leaving her here. He had not had his fill of her yet. "Follow me." He said, getting up. She quietly followed behind him a few paces. She assumed she was possibly his personal attendant, so she tried to take a mental note of the things that she was handed on the tray, in case she was sent to the kitchens with Penti and the others. She focused on holding the long dress in bare feet down the stairs, and the twists and turns he took.
The few servants that saw her were confused, as she was dressed like a lady of the court, and had natural looks, but the thick cuffs of a slave? Was she his new toy? Is he bored?... Was he taking her to the Cells? They dared not ask, for it was not their place. The lower-ranking servants had the pleasure of being cold and unhappy, forced to do the chores no one else wanted to do this snow ridden day, while the others were somewhere warm. Gossip whispered on the wind while he walked, and she had to nearly run to keep up with him.
Her feet were cold, but he didn't notice, because he didn't think of all things, that she had no slippers. He was occupied having her follow him to his private study. He was only going to do the paperwork there, and get briefed, but he already knew he wouldn't get anything done. He would have his Samira. The Treaty of the North and West had been sitting on his desk for days now and needed to be read, signed, and sent off, but he would not rush it. Lord Thetas was no fool, he would not sign anything and recklessly send it back.
He didn't notice that she was having a hard time keeping up. He was focused on his mission of getting this business over with to give to a messenger. Once he opened the door, he turned to see her out of breath. He chuckled lightly on the outside, but on the inside, he was cursing at himself again. He was not considerate of her. He thought of her always now, but thinking alone would not help her if she didn't speak up, nor if he wasn't aware of her needs.
They said nothing about going inside. He sat in his large leather chair, while she would have stood near him like his attendant, however, he noticed this. "What are you doing Samira?" He asked half amused. His kitten had followed him to his study without question, only to do that. He looked at her and motioned for her to sit across from him. She was obediently standing near him, but that would no longer be her place if he could help it.
"Attending you master." She whispered, daring to steal a glance at the large, handsome man before her. She could hear the rise and fall of his chest, and his beautiful blue eyes, which seemed to be devoid of any gray at the moment.
"You are not my attendant. Sit with me." He said casually, and slid some coffee and small cakes in front of the spot where he wanted her to go. She obediently sat, and silently wondered why he had given her such attention. She didn't think that she had done anything to receive it, though. She even noticed it the day of the festival, that there was a connection she couldn't quite put her finger on.
She quietly sat, drinking the hot beverage that she had never tried before. This was a drink of the nobility. This was never something she would have ever tasted, even if she had gotten married to a low ranking soldier. She had been fed, put in a noble's dress, and even slept in his chambers, in his bed. There was also the fact that he spoke softly to her, in a way that she knew a servant would never here… but why? She just couldn't understand it.
Maybe he likes me?
The daring thought made her gasp out loud. He was the most powerful noble on the continent, what would he need with a slave? Her gasp had made this Lord alert. He scanned the room for a threat, but his eyes only met those of his doe-eyed woman. She had interrupted him, and though he didn't look upset, there was a chance that he was.
"Is there something wrong, my timid kitten?" He asked, looking her in her eyes. His words were endearing, and confused Samira further. She didn't know what to think of it. She tried to think that he didn't mean it in that way.
"It's nothing master…" She flinched when he reached for her soft curls, but the way he caressed them gave her butterflies in her stomach.
He saw the pleading in her eyes to drop it, and he scanned her over, ignoring it. He wanted to make sure that she was fine. There was always the chance that something was wrong, but he didn't see anything. "If you are hurting, retire to my chambers." He whispered gently with concern laced on his lips.
"Of course, my Lord." She whispered, looking down. She couldn't muster her voice around him like she wanted. And now that she realized he might be infatuated with her, there were more butterflies in her stomach. She tried thinking of other things, but she couldn't. This was dangerous to have these feelings, so she did the only thing she could do while she sipped quietly. She gave herself a mental pep talk.
I do not like him. She thought to herself. He does not like me. I don't want to lose my head, so I better learn now if I know what's for my own good. She thought. Little did she know that Lord Thetas was still watching her. He was still there, wondering what was going on with her. She looked at her coffee as if she were scolding it. He figured she must be in pain. He grimaced at the thought, because he still blamed himself for that.
"Samira, go to my chambers and have the maids draw a bath for you." He commanded softly, as if he were talking to a small bunny.
"Master, I am fine." She protested quietly, thinking she had done something wrong.
He took in a deep breath, and let out a slow exhale out his nose with pursed thin lips. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, as she realized she had made the mistake of questioning him. "I'm sorry." She said, getting up, and backing away from him. He still sat in his chair, and did not move. He knew if he did, she would probably run, and he had not eaten in a few days. At least, not what nourishes him.